‘Why don’t we go back to your home now?’ she suggested casually. ‘Then I can thank him.’

‘He’s not there. This morning he took off to visit his girlfriend.’

‘What? How long for?’

‘Dunno! Lilian’s studying for medical exams too, so they’ll probably work together. I’ll bet they study far into the night, and then go to bed to sleep. And that’s all he’ll do. He’s got ice water in his veins.’

As in a flash of lightning she saw Andrew’s face leaning over her as he began to remove her clothes. Not ice water.

Then the lightning was gone, and she was here again with Johnny, suddenly realising how young he was. How could she ever have been flattered by the admiration of this boy?

But for the next few days she still hung around with him, had supper at his house, just in case Andrew appeared. But he didn’t, and after four days she gave this up. She told Andrew’s mother that she was so sorry to have missed him, and she would write him a note of thanks. Sitting at the kitchen table, she applied herself.

Dear Andrew,

I shall give this note to your mother, and ask her to make sure that you get it. I owe you my thanks-for the help you gave me at the party the other night.

Good. Dignified and restrained, and giving no clue to her real thoughts: You’re a dirty, rotten so-and-so for not coming to see me.

‘There are two “esses” in passionate,’ said Andrew’s voice over her shoulder.

She jumped with sheer astonishment. ‘What-? I didn’t-’

‘And one “y” in undying, and one “u” in gratitude.’

She leapt up to confront him. ‘What are you on about?’ she demanded. She could have screamed at being caught unawares after all her careful plans. Once again life had handed her the wrong script.

But his face came out of the right script. It was tired and pale, as if he’d studied too long, but his eyes held a glowing light that made her want to smile.

‘I was writing you a note to thank you for your help, but I never said anything about passionate, undying gratitude.’

He took it from her and studied the few words regretfully. ‘You just hadn’t reached that bit yet,’ he suggested.

‘In your dreams! Just because a person is being polite, that doesn’t mean that another person can go creeping up behind them and-and make fun of them-when all a person was doing was-was-’

‘Being polite,’ he supplied helpfully.

‘I’d have thanked you myself if you’d still been around next day.’

‘I thought I’d better not be,’ he said quietly.

Suddenly she was growing warm, as though he’d openly referred to the way he’d undressed her. She turned away so that he shouldn’t see how her cheeks were flaming.

The next moment the rest of the family entered the kitchen. There were greetings, laughter, surprise.

‘I thought you were staying until the end of the week,’ his mother said.

‘Oh, you know me,’ Andrew said carelessly. ‘Always chopping and changing.’

‘You? Once you’ve decided on something it’s like arguing with a rock.’

Andrew merely gave the calm smile that Ellie was to come to know. It meant that other people’s opinions washed off him.

‘I feel sorry for Lilian, if she marries you,’ Grace teased.

‘She won’t,’ Andrew said mildly. ‘Too much good sense.’

‘Sense?’ Grace echoed, aghast. ‘Is that what you say about the love of your life? Don’t you thrill when you see her? Doesn’t your heart beat with anticipation, your pulse-?’

‘Whoever invented kid sisters ought to be shot,’ Andrew observed without heat.

‘Who’s a kid?’ Grace demanded. ‘I’m seventeen.’

‘From where I’m standing that’s a kid,’ Andrew teased.

Grace took hold of Ellie’s arm. ‘Come on, let’s go upstairs and play my new records.’

‘No, let’s help your mother lay the table,’ Ellie said quickly. Anything was better than being bracketed with Andrew’s ‘kid’ sister.

After the meal they all went out into the garden and watched fireflies, talking about nothing in particular. When the rest went in she hung back, touching his arm lightly so that he turned and stayed with her.

‘I didn’t say thank you properly,’ she said.

In the darkness she could just make out his grin. ‘You were saying different at the time. Nothing was bad enough for me.’

‘Well-I wasn’t quite myself.’

‘You were smashed. Not a pretty sight. And very dangerous.’

‘Yes, I might fall into the hands of a man who’d undress me while I was unconscious,’ she pointed out. ‘That could be dangerous too.’

She wasn’t really annoyed with him for undressing her, but for some reason she wanted to talk about it.

‘What are you saying? Are you asking me if I ravished you?’

She smiled at him provocatively. ‘Did you?’

‘Stop playing games with me, Ellie,’ he said quietly. ‘You’re too young and ignorant about men to risk this kind of conversation.’

‘Is it risky?’

‘It would be with some men. It’s not with me because I know how innocent you really are, and I respect it.’

‘You mean I mustn’t ask if you “ravished” me?’

He was angry then. ‘You know damned well I didn’t.’

‘How do I know?’

‘Because you’d know if I had.’

‘So why undress me at all?’

‘If I’d just dumped you into bed fully clothed your mother would have guessed that you were incapable. I was trying to make everything look as normal as possible. But I’m a doctor. I’m used to naked bodies, and yours meant nothing to me.’

She glared. It was maddening not to be able to tell him that this was just what she minded most.

Grace put her head out of the window. ‘Andrew, Lilian’s on the phone.’

She couldn’t help overhearing the first part of the call. ‘Lilian? Hi, honey, yes, I got here OK-it was a wonderful few days, wasn’t it? You know I do-’ He gave a soft laugh that seemed to go through Ellie.

She stood still, filled with sensations that she didn’t understand and couldn’t control. Andrew was a man, not a boy. He excited her and mystified her, and he had all the allure of the unknown. But her chief sensation, although she didn’t understand it then, was childish, hurt pride.

There and then she made up her mind that she was going to make him fall in love with her, and that would show everyone. Above all it would show him that he couldn’t look down on her from lofty heights.

Oh, God, she thought now, looking back down the tunnel of years, I was only seventeen. What did I know?

The house stood well back from the road, almost hidden by trees. It was large and costly, the residence of a wealthy, successful man.

It was dusk as Andrew drove up the winding drive, and there were no lights to greet him. But for himself the house was empty, and even he spent very little time here since his wife and son had departed. He had a bachelor flat near the hospital.

This grandiose place wasn’t a home to him. It never had been. He’d bought it three years ago to satisfy Myra, who’d fallen in love with its size and luxury. She’d been the wife of the youngest top-ranking cardiothoracic surgeon in the country, and she’d expected to live appropriately. Andrew had demurred at the house, which was almost a mansion, with a porticoed door and walls covered with ivy. But Myra had insisted, and he’d yielded, as so often, to conceal the fact that his feeling for her had died. If it had ever lived.

For a while she’d enjoyed playing lady of the manor. She’d named the place ‘Oaks’ after the two magnificent trees in the garden. She’d bought their son, Simon, a pony, and had him taught to ride in the grounds. But by that time their marriage had effectively been over. She hadn’t even wanted Oaks as part of the divorce settlement.

He was pouring himself a drink when his mobile went. It was Myra, which made his head immediately start to ache.

‘You’re no easier to get hold of than you ever were,’ she said wryly. ‘Where are you?’

‘The house.’

‘What are you rattling around in that place for?’

‘I can’t think.’

‘Just checking about the weekend. Simon’s looking forward to seeing you.’

‘Look, I was going to call you about that-’

‘Don’t you dare!’

‘I’ll have to work over the weekend. Can’t you explain to Simon, make him understand?’

‘But he already does understand, Andrew. It’s what he understands that should be worrying you. He understands that he’s always last on your list of priorities.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘Damn, it is true! Look, I married you knowing your work always came first. I made that choice. But Simon didn’t. He expects to have a father who loves him-’

‘Don’t dare say I don’t love my son,’ he barked.

‘Do you think I need to say it? Don’t you think he knows it every time you let him down?’

‘Put him on.’

The talk with his son was a disaster. Simon was quiet and polite, saying, ‘Yes, Daddy,’ and ‘It’s all right, Daddy,’ at regular intervals. And it wasn’t all right. It was all dreadfully wrong, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

He was tired to the bone. He microwaved something from the freezer, barely noticing what it was, then settled down in front of his computer. For two hours he worked mechanically and only stopped because his head was aching too badly for him to think. But that was good. He didn’t want to think.

He wondered why he suddenly felt so drained and futile. The demands of work were crushing, but they always were. Pressure, stress, instant decisions, life and death-these were the things he thrived on, without which he wouldn’t exist. Suddenly they weren’t enough. Or rather, they were too much. For the first time in his career-no, his whole life-he wondered if he could cope with everything that was required of him.

It was absurd to connect this sudden loss of confidence with the brief moment in the hospital corridor when he’d been confronted with a past he’d thought safely dead and buried.